


incongruity

by Zerrat



Series: OTP: Glorious Trainwreck [2]
Category: Drag-On Dragoon | Drakengard
Genre: F/F, Manipulation, Prompt Fill, Pseudo-Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-04-08 23:06:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4324269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zerrat/pseuds/Zerrat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Four continues to be twisted up inside about what she wants, and Five continues to test the boundaries.</p>
            </blockquote>





	incongruity

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dropletons](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=dropletons).



> Prompt 19, Five/Four - _"The paint's supposed to go **where**?"_
> 
> I'm so sorry, the word count on this one totally got away from me so I'm posting this as an actual fic. Please accept it. 
> 
> Notes: Five continues to be incredibly manipulative, and Four continues to be incredibly messed up by the incongruity between the awful things she wants and what she thinks she needs to be.

Four's routines whilst in Cathedral City were admittedly predictable. She attended the same meetings with One, occupied the same rooms with Decadus, her wanderings through the keep taking only familiar corridors and halls. It was rare that she ever felt the need to stray from comfortable habit. 

This visit, however, had taken a decidedly uncomfortable twist. Halfway through her stay, she'd received information from Decadus that Five - of all the pointless annoyances - had arrived overnight and was intending to bless Four with the dubious pleasure of her company. 

In the space of a horrified squeak she'd only barely had the time to smother, Four's routines had flown out the window. Meal times, her usual haunts, all the time she'd wanted to spend with One going over the supply logistics for the Land of Mountains - all of it would leave her too open to a visit from Five. And after their last encounter, Five was the very _last_ person Four wanted to see. 

Of course, when Decadus had questioned her abrupt change in plans, she'd fobbed him off. With as commanding an air as she could manage, Four had informed him it was merely a reshuffling of priorities, something he should take a given when so many things required her attention. The change in quarters had been disguised as a simple need for fresh air - anything to make it seem as though she wasn't intentionally avoiding her sister. 

For the better part of a week, Four had succeeded, and the long-dreaded reunion with her only younger sister had not eventuated. A part of her had started to relax, to hope that perhaps Five had given up. 

She really ought to have known such peace had been too good to last. 

While Four had been visiting some of the watchtowers on the outskirts of the ruins, intending to cast a critical eye over the soldiers charged with defending both One's safety and honour, Cathedral City's unpredictable weather had turned a cloudless sky into storm clouds. 

The downpour had been both sudden and brutal, large droplets driven by gale-force wind from nowhere. Four had been soaked to the bone before she'd been able to take cover in the nearest watchtower, matting her hair to the back of her neck, her pigtails hanging in wretched strings. 

Only too aware of the wide, judgemental stares of the soldiers stationed at the watchtower, Four had demanded their commander's office with a snap, only sweetening her words when they'd practically fallen over themselves in their haste to comply. 

The office was small, of course, occupied almost entirely by the man's desk and shelves of reports. To the right of the room stood a brazier of hot coal, kept more for light than heat, but Four supposed it would have to do. Once satisfied she was alone, she shrugged her way free of her overcoat, her mouth tightening at the sensation of the waterlogged wool and fur peeling away from her flesh. 

She hung it over the back of the officer's chair before moving over to the brazier. She stripped away her gloves, holding her hands up near the coals, letting out a sigh as heat began to suffuse her joints. Idly, she wondered if she had the privacy to rid herself of the clammy confines of her waistcoat - but that was when a knock sounded on the office door. 

Mouth twisting in irritation - she'd thought she'd been quite clear to that idiot of a commander that she wasn't to be disturbed by his meaningless, human chatter - Four called out, 

"A moment of peace, if such a thing isn't too much to ask!" 

There was a beat of silence from her visitor beyond the door. Perhaps they'd thought better of disturbing her, Four decided with a petty satisfaction, and she turned back to the brazier, shivering at the fresh wash of heat over her chilled flesh. 

Her visitor didn't knock again. Instead, the door swung open, admitting the very last person in Cathedral City Four had been wanting - or expecting. 

"Why, sister!" Five said from the threshold of the office, leaning up against the doorframe with an exaggerated stretch, a long, inappropriate moan falling from her lips at the motion. As she straightened, fixing her amber gaze on Four, she continued, "I'm almost surprised to actually _find_ you here."

Four tried not to flinch at the sound of Five's low voice and song - had her sister been hiding it, to have caught her so unawares? No matter how Four struggled to maintain an impassive, imperious mask, it slipped beneath her fingers as Five pushed her way into the too-small office. Despite her every misgiving, Four was helpless but to let her gaze linger on the sway of Five's hips, the swing of rain-soaked golden curls down her back as she devoured the space between them. 

Her sister had not escaped the sudden storm, either. The damp made her dark woollens cling even more obscenely to her flesh, the water giving her hair more curl than Four recalled. It was impossible not to notice the way droplets of rain trickled down the length of her throat, down the swell of her too-generous cleavage -

Four choked as Five swept in for an embrace that was too _close_ , the press of her hands against the small of Four's back too demanding until her face was buried against Five's collarbone, the scent of rain, perfume and skin seeming to override her better instinct to flee. The kiss Five pressed against her flushed cheek was just a little too open, a little too lingering - but never enough that Four felt safe to call her on it. 

"Five," Four managed as Five drew away, immediately taking a step backwards to reclaim a fraction of her personal space. With a hint of ire, she noted that Five followed her, as if loath to allow Four respite at all.

"Thank goodness Decadus was able to tell me where you'd vanished to today," Five murmured, catching one of Four's hands in her own in a grasp a fraction too tight to slip from, drawing it close to her breast with a smile. "When One mentioned you were in Cathedral City, why, imagine my surprise! I've had such a long, _hard_ time locating you. Anyone would think it was by design!"

From the cut of Five's amber gaze then, it was a question, no matter the phrasing. 

"Certainly not," Four lied, the words falling from her lips with perhaps a little too much ease. Despite the chilled embrace of her waistcoat and dress, she longed for the safety of her overcoat, still dripping on the back of the chair. Frowning and turning away from Five, her eyes on the brazier, she added, "Perhaps Two might indulge in such childish behaviour, but there is simply too much that requires my attention to simply... make myself available at your pleasure."

"Oh, Four. I have so missed your naivety." Five exhaled then, just as easily a sigh as a laugh and drawing Four's attention back to her, a moth to a flame. She squeezed Four's hand. "And here I'd wondered if you were still knotted up about our last meeting. I know it's... _lingered_ on my mind." 

The wicked curve of Five's lips left little room to misinterpret what she meant by "linger", but Four was too preoccupied with the unwanted, _unneeded_ reminder of the assassination attempt to snap back. The memory of the man, dead on the ground and his blood on Four's hands flashed to mind, Five's mouth and tongue against her own. Worse had been the bone-deep yearning for more, despite knowing better, despite _being_ better. 

Her stomach grew hot with want and outrage in equal measure - neither of which she felt she had adequate leash on, and her song spiked up, seeping through her stranglehold on it. 

"It meant nothing," Four said after a moment, wetting her lips and looking down at where Five still held her hand, refusing to meet her sister's gaze.

"Perhaps," Five allowed, releasing Four's hand finally. She edged closer to the brazier's heat, her shoulder resting against Four's. "Can you blame me for cherishing such a moment, when my sister was truly herself? When I tasted her honesty on her lips?"

Four exhaled sharply, her song rearing up like a half-starved dog at the mere mention of the kiss - and all that had led to it. It was alarming, how little provocation she needed. It was _inappropriate_ , and precisely the reason Four had been avoiding Five! 

"If you've come here to mock me about such distasteful -"

"Hardly," Five cut in, and before Four could think to back away, she set a warm hand to Four's cheek. Idly, she dusked her thumb across Four's lower lip, the gleam of her smile in the brazier's light predatory. "I merely thought to bring you a gift - a peace offering, if you will. Things have been ever so tense between us, sister. Perhaps with this, we can... resolve the matter more definitively."

Four frowned but couldn't find the words to argue, and no matter her misgivings at Five's closeness, she didn't move away. There was something almost... hypnotising about the amber of Five's eyes. They were disarming, beseeching even when Four knew Five played games. It was the reactions she sought, openings, _weakness_. Back when they had been children, those games had been unrefined and harmless, but now... 

"Very well," Four said, narrowing her eyes and hugging her elbows. Just how bad could a gift be? 

Five's expression brightened immediately, and she hummed a short note of song, an ornately carved box appearing from the air itself in a flurry of light to fall into outstretched her gloved hands. Five held it up in the brazier's crimson light, examining the decorative markings with an air of satisfaction, before looking back to Four. 

She took Four's hand again, pressing the box into them before leaning. This time, her kiss was just shy of the corner of Four's mouth, slow and languid and enough to set Four's heart and song to pounding. 

"Five," Four managed, a warning despite the hoarseness in her voice. 

"You really are no fun," Five said, her laugh light and mocking. She lingered close, however, so _close_ as Four turned the gift over and over in her hands, watching with rapt attention as Four caught the latch and opened the lid. 

The box's interior was filled with a dark liquid of seemingly low viscosity, and puzzled, Four dipped her fingers in. She held it up to the crimson light, watching as it trickled down her fingers and over her knuckles, the scent of something sweet only adding to her confusion. 

"I'm not sure I understand," Four said after a moment, turning her hand about and wondering how in the world some sweet sauce was meant to mend the tension that had fallen between herself and Five. "Perhaps you ought to explain this... gift."

Four had just enough time to notice the predatory gleam in Five's amber eyes before her sister pressed her face into Four's damp collar. 

She clicked her tongue, as if sorely disappointed. "Oh Four. Are you implying you don't know paint when you see it?"

Resisting the urge to snap a defensive retort, Four instead contented herself with an irritable, raised eyebrow. "Don't take me for a fool, Five. I've seen what workmen use, and this..."

Four trailed off as Five smiled against the exposed skin above her collar, struck wordless as her sister reached for her wrist. Five's grasp was warm and electric, her breath hot against Four's bare skin, enough to raise goosebumps entirely unrelated to the cold, to set a deep ache of want between her legs. 

"This is hardly the variety of paint used to whitewash walls," Five murmured, bringing Four's sticky hand to her mouth, kissing her fingertips. The very _suggestion_ of her tongue, hot and wet beyond those full lips, froze Four's every breathless protest before they could form. "The paint goes on your body, Four. Allow me to demonstrate."

"The paint - the paint is supposed to go _where_?" Four forced out, somehow remembering her words despite still forgetting what breathing entailed. She shuddered as she felt Five's tongue dart out, moving in tiny, maddening strokes against the skin of her knuckles, tracking the trail of the dark liquid. Even Five's other hand at her hip, grasp so tight it felt bruising, didn't seem to raise alarm bells as she watched her sister clean her hand. 

Through dark lashes, Five's eyes flickered up to Four's own, her gaze searing and hot. In that moment, Four's higher functioning was lost to her entirely, her perception reduced to nothing but the hot, wet movement of tongue between her fingers, the ragged pull of her own breath, and the deepening purr of her song. 

Five's seemed to pick up in response, immediately urging it higher, faster on instinct alone until the ache between Four's legs had grown sharper, hotter, slicker - 

"No!"

Four tore her hand from Five's grasp, from her mouth, darting away from her sister's embrace. Wordless horror clawed at her chest, at how _quickly_ it had spiralled from her control. It had been faster than that afternoon with the assassin, easier, the damning part of her mind whispered, the judgement like a bucket of ice water on her shoulders. What was _wrong_ with her?

Her breath ragged and face burning, Four hugged her elbows, refusing to look at Five. Outside, the storm still raged, the wind-driven rain coming down hard against the office window. Her stomach clenched, a thousand excuses to run flitting through her head despite the poor weather outside. 

From Five, there was only a heavy, expectant silence - as if she waited for Four to break. Four's mouth twisted, and she looked back to Five, her grasp on her mask of propriety and judgement like iron. 

"No?" Five asked, her words honeyed and gentle, belying the insistent, hungry rage of her song at the edge of Four's awareness. 

"No," Four repeated, and it was so difficult to ignore the addictive fury of her song. She wanted nothing more than to say yes, just as she had with the assassin, to give in to the electricity and heat beneath her flesh. But the judgement she'd cast on herself was too powerful - to _cold._

Five watched Four for a long moment, amber eyes intense. Unsatisfied whatever she saw in Four, she shook her head, damp blonde curls swinging. "As you wish, Four. I had only wished to assist with this tension between us." 

Four's jaw firmed, and this time, the denial came more easily to her. "There _is_ no tension, sister." 

Five smiled, the expression thin on her lips. "As you say. Sister."

Without another word, Five turned her back on Four, starting for the office door. Four's grasp on her damp sleeves tightened. It felt too easy, when it came to Five's games, and a part of Four almost felt badly for her. Had she truly been trying to help? Four's mind flickered to One. If Five told her how Four had outright rejected an attempt at reconciliation, then...

But that wasn't why Four's heart pounded in her ears, why her song shifted, tight and demanding release. She wanted nothing more than for Five to leave her in peace, and yet with just as fierce an intensity, she wanted Five to _stay._

Conflicted, Four said nothing, watching as Five paused at the office door. 

Five looked over her shoulder, amber eyes narrowed, the cut of her smile both twisted and vindictive. "Perhaps I misjudged you. Perhaps you merely prefer to be painted with the blood of your foes?"

The simmering rage and resentment buried in Four's chest ignited. No longer uncertain, she snarled as she hurled the gift at the door Five had closed behind her.

**Author's Note:**

> Four's really not having a good time of it, is she?
> 
> Still accepting prompts over on [my tumblr!](zerrat.tumblr.com).


End file.
